Watarimono Kensei
by Roulade
Summary: The year is 1895. In an age where Kenjutsu is in decline and the philosophies of Bushido are practically extinct, a boy named Kensei arrives in Kyoto. He practices Kendo with the goal of proving the strength of the "Way of the Sword" against the oppressive changes that has turned Kenjutsu into simply a militaristic tool for killing or a mindless sport for entertainment.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Fair warning to the those of you curious readers who clicked on this story, wondering what it might be. This isn't your typical fanfiction, or even an elaborate piece of prose written with much gusto. This story was a brainchild of mine, written _years_ ago on the premises of, _"What if Rurouni Kenshin had a sequel? What would the story be about?"_ which eventually led to massive, obsessive research into Japanese history, world-building, character development, plot development, and a story that read like a cheesy action manga from the late 90's and early 2000's. All of it was conceptualized, but sadly most of it was never drafted into story format. After sorting through my old journals, and finding this cringe-worthy piece of work, I was feeling nostalgic and decided to clean up and post what parts of the story I did have finished, the first of which is posted below. Many new faces (original characters) and some familiar faces make appearances, but I hope you give them all a chance either way.

tl;dr: That being said, I hope you enjoy reading Watarimono Kensei as much as I had fun writing it!

 **Terms:**

Watarimono – pilgrim, wanderer

Gasa – traditional woven straw hat.

Yugake – gloves, arm guards.

Gi – robe, similar to the kimono, but traditionally worn by men.

Hakama – pleated pants worn over the gi.

Daito – Japanese curved long sword.

Bokken – wooden sword, often used for patterns, to practice swinging, and condition the arms.

Kimono – traditional Japanese robe.

Gekkiken – "free fencing" refer to

Dango – sweet dumplings.

Dojo – gathering place, or training facility for the arts (in this case, martial arts).

Kenjutsu – Japanese swordsmanship.

Kenkaku – swordsman.

Shinai – bamboo practice sword

Oji – old man

-san – honorific, like "Mr." or "Ms."

Saya – sword sheathe

Gaijin – foreigner, usually refers to Caucasian westerners.

Sake – alcohol

Haori – mid-length, long-sleeved coat worn over normal clothes

Yakuza – Japanese mafia

Ri – unit of distance, approximately equal to 0.645 km

Ki – spirit energy, released with an energetic shout in martial arts to strengthen themselves (called Ki-ai)

Tsuki o utsu – "striking down the moon"

Hangetsu – half moon

Kensei – spirit, or will of the sword

 **Ch 1: A Watarimono Arrives in the City of Elegance**

As the afternoon sun shone brilliantly down on the blooming city of Kyoto, a train pulled into Kyoto station at two past the noon hour, just as it always does once every week. And just like every week, men and women of all classes came filing out of the train cars, met halfway on the platform by friends, relatives and business partners. However, unlike every week, the usual scenery was broken by the appearance of a boy with the looks and size of a child and ragged clothing, who stepped off onto the platform. With his _gasa_ pointed hat, fraying _yugake_ training gloves, _gi_ , _hakama_ , square travel packs slung over one shoulder, and a _daito_ wooden sword at his waist, he stood out from the majority of the crowd, looking more like a street urchin amongst a sea of smartly dressed civilians in western suits, frilly dresses, and flowery kimonos.

As the boy walked through the streets, he picked up bits of gossip from the people around him. Passing by a kiosk selling dango, his attuned ears zeroed in on a particular conversation amongst three other boys about the age of fifteen at the corner across the street from him. They were talking about kendo.

"The police have been more aggressive with the dojo's lately. I hear all the schools in Kanto have already surrendered their secret techniques," said one boy.

"No way! Master Maekawa would never give up the famous Chuuetsu Style that has dominated the Tokyo Gekkiken for the last decade!" another boy passionately replied. "Giving up his secrets would mean giving up his title!"

The first boy scoffed. "You idiot, times are different now. Mastering secret sword styles mean nothing now compared to amassing knowledge. I hear that's the real reason why the police have been collecting styles from all over the country."

His interest peaked, the ragged traveller left his spot in front of the dango shop and tried to wander closer, but was waylaid by a peddler sitting in the shade, offering to sell him a tourist map of the city. Nearby, the conversation carried on.

"And now that the war with China is over, there's an influx of swordsmen from the army returning to Japan... I have a few hot-headed relatives on their way back from Korea, and I know they won't be happy to hear their dojo's have been taken over by the government."

"Hey, Akira, your brother is a policeman, isn't he? Can't he tell you about what's going on?" The second boy asked and both boys turned to their third companion.

The third boy, who had been quiet throughout the conversation so far, responded coldly.

"What, you think my brother would tell me something like that? And by the way, you've got your facts wrong. The police are entering the final negotiations with the kenjutsu masters in officially recognizing kendo as a national martial art, but nothing major has happened yet. It's the _yakuza_ that have been threatening the dojo's and targeting kenkaku lately, so if you ask me, you two would be the weakest link in our school." The boy named Akira shot an irritated glare at his two friends and continued marching down the street without a second glance back. "You better watch yourselves while walking around in public with those shinai on your backs. I won't be the one to clean your sorry corpses off the dojo's front steps when it happens."

The other two boys shrank back cautiously from Akira's ridicule, remembering how the topic of their friend's brother was a touchy subject. The second boy ran ahead of Akira and kept pace with his friend's hurried steps while attempting to pacify the other boy's suddenly sour mood.

"Hey, come on, Akira, don't be like that!" he spun around and shuffled backwards, trying to keep pace with his friend and talk at the same time. "You know that half the stuff that comes out of our mouths is useless chatter anyways, right Isao?" He aimed a nudging look at the other boy, Isao, who nodded his head in agreement.

"Right, right," Isao replied airily. "In other words, don't believe everything Isamu says, Akira."

"Hey!"

Isamu was about to snap at Isao, but was pointedly not paying attention to where he was going. He backed right into a taller man in his teens, who hadn't been paying attention either. The teen abruptly cut off his lively banter with his group of friends and glowered down at the shorter boy. The group of obnoxious teenagers had apparently been drawing disapproving looks from the crowd as they shoved each other roughly through the streets and swung their shinai precariously around, before one of them had inadvertently jumped into Isamu.

Isamu quickly backed off and waved his hands apologetically.

"S-Sorry about that. Are you all right?"

The boy anxiously squinted up at the teenager before him as the older boy's stare turned into a menacing leer. Then the teen seemed to notice the sheathed shinai strapped to each back of the three youth before him. The leer spread into a foul grin.

"Well, look at what we have here, boys? A couple of spoiled brats who think they're swordsmen, carrying around those shinai out in the open like that," the teen blurted loudly.

The other teens snickered in amusement. Sensing the sudden hostility in the air, Akira defensively widened his stance and eyed the four bullies warily.

"They probably only know one kind of swing, like how they teach it at all the knock-off dojo's these days – unlike our Yagyu-Shinkage style kenjutsu," he gloated.

One of his companions cackled. "Yeah, you mean like that Ono-ha what's-its-name style? They have so many students out there, if I walked up to a beggar on the street, he'd probably be an Ono-ha student too!"

The uncontrollable laughter of the teens bellowed above the crowded street, drawing wary glances from the bystanders. A patrol of policemen turned around the corner down the street in that moment, halted in their tracks and eyed the kenjutsu students suspiciously from across the busy square where people were slowly starting to crowd around the disturbance.

With a cool-headed wave of his hand, Akira stepped in front of Isamu to hold back his friend's retort.

"Let's get out of here guys. These fools aren't worth the trouble."

The teen whom Isamu had bumped into (who was apparently the leader among his group of delinquents) stuck out his shinai, effectively blocking the three boys' attempt to exit the situation.

"What's the hurry, pretty boy? You're friends look like they wanna stay and have some fun. We were just in the mood for a little sparring match too, weren't we?"

The harassers circled around their three victims like a pack of wolves. Isao and Isamu slowly shifted around to face their opponents until they were back to back with Akira, who warily drew his shinai as well. In the background, the policemen who had been guardedly watching the conflict unfold, finally seemed to recognize the signs that a fight was about to break out and started to make their way over through the crowded street.

Akira stood his ground as the bullies took an aggressive stance. Isao quickly whispered nervously to Akira.

"What do we do, Akira? We're not supposed to –"

"Just follow my lead. We attack first, I'll make an opening and we'll use that chance to escape."

The two sides glared at each other, waiting for the right moment to pounce. However, before either side could make a move, there was suddenly a third party in their midst.

The unusual boy with the gasa came casually strolling between the surrounding bystanders, strolling right in between Akira and the delinquent leader, apparently unaware of the situation he had just walked into. His nose stuck between the folds of a large sheet of paper, he mumbled obliviously to himself and scratched his head in confusion.

"Eeeh, that oji-san really tricked me. This map cost me two-hundred yen, so how am I going to pay for my lunch now?" he pondered out loud.

The lead bully smacked his shinai on the ground in irritation. "You're in the way, shorty! Move it!" Without warning, he took a sloppy swing at the strange boy with his shinai. Time seemed to move slowly as Akira made to reach out and push the boy out of the way.

The boy, however, simply hopped up on his toes, subtly absorbing then deflecting the impact with the crumpled map and angle of his hands, and landed lightly on his feet several steps back. Akira caught a glimpse of this subtle, skillful movement, but shook off the bewilderment, thinking it was a trick of the light.

The short boy finally looked up in surprise. Noticing the angry looks coming from both sides, the large bullies surrounding the three boys next to him, the boy's surprise transformed into a pleasant smile.

"Hey now, no need to be so pushy!" he admonished like a mother would to a bunch of rowdy children. "We're all upstanding young men here, so I'm sure we can work something out without having to swing our swords around like barbarians."

"What did you just call me, you little brat?" The bully snagged the front of the boy's jacket and his hat was knocked back, revealing short, messy hair, an unusual chestnut-brown in color. Clear, blue eyes gaze at them in surprise through the brown bangs on his forehead.

The group stop and stare for a moment. Annoyed, the bully shook him threateningly.

"What're you, a _gaijin?_ You some kind of gaijin-Japanese mutt?"

The boy appeared to seriously consider that comment for a moment, then replied, "Hm, that's a good question. I often wonder that myself."

Not liking his smart tone, the bully whipped another fierce swing at him – only to end up hitting nothing but an empty _gi_ and two square packages.

In that weightless instant before the crumpled packs fell to the ground, a sheathed sword suddenly thrust through the _gi_ through the older boy's blind spot, striking him hard in the gut. The teen collapsed to the ground. Both delinquent lackeys and the three boys gaped like fish at what they had just witnessed – or actually, what they _didn't_ witness. The whole exchange had happened so quickly, the bullies were left perplexed as to whether the boy had even made a move or not.

However, the two remaining bullies soon shook off their initial confusion and brandished their shinai at the brown-haired boy with his sheathed sword in hand. The boy took a stance of his own as if to draw the sword at his side and Akira moved subtly, preparing to jump into the fray –

A police whistle suddenly shrills through the streets, cutting through the tension like butter.

"Hold it right there, you punks!" A unit of policemen broke out of the mass of people in the square and came rushing over. Chaos fell on the streets as everyone rushed about, trying to make themselves scarce.

The bullies picked up their fallen leader in a panic and tripped over each other to make a hasty retreat. Amidst the chaos, the brown-haired boy spotted his jacket still gripped firmly in the unconscious bully's grasp as it trailed after them in the wind.

"H-Hey! They stole my _gi_!" He was about to run after the escaping party, when Akira grabbed his arm and dragged him along after his already retreating friends, the police hot on their heels.

/

Later on, the three students plus the now _gi_ -less, brown-haired boy had made it safely back to their main residence. The strange boy had appraised the sign hanging from the entranceway in the evening's twilight as they had rushed through the gate, reading, "Tsugaru Dojo." Just as they closed the door, the echo of whistles and angry police officers passed by outside, fading away into the distance. At this late hour, the students were most likely finished training for the day and the dojo was tranquilly silent. The stillness over the property was broken only by footsteps in the main training hall where the four boys stopped to catch their breaths.

"That was way too close for comfort. For a moment, I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes back there," Isao griped dramatically.

Isamu wailed to the ceiling in response. "Please forgive us Master Tsugaru! We didn't mean to cause trouble with students of the Yagyu dojo! Or the police!"

Isao and Isamu both bowed their heads in shame, one falling prone on the floor in exhaustion, the other bobbing his head hysterically in front of the alcove where the head master's empty seat was enshrined. Akira trudged across the mats and smacked the both of them back to their senses, then started handing out orders.

"Stop groveling, you idiots! Isao, go make sure we weren't followed and lock up the front gates. Isamu, go tell Instructor Kamata what has happened."

The two boys looked at each other unsurely, until Akira gave an impatient, "NOW!" which startled both boys to their feet. They rushed off in opposite directions, leaving Akira with the brown-haired boy alone in the quiet of evening. When Akira turned around to address their unexpected guest, he found the boy wasn't in the spot on the floor where he had collapsed a moment ago.

"Hmmm, I've seen the Yamaga family's version of the _Ono-ha Itto_ style, and the original Ono family's revived style as well. But really, it was the Tsugaru family that kept the traditional unarmored dueling style of the _Ono-ha Itto_ alive throughout the generations. I've never seen Tsugaru style before, unfortunately."

The brunette boy wondered aloud, and Akira found him standing in front of a shinai storage rack on the other side of the training hall, gazing up at the row of black and white photographs displayed along the edge of the ceiling and walls. Akira ignored the boy's strange ramblings to himself and replied without missing a beat.

"That was a pretty stupid thing you did back there, kid, but I suppose I should thank you for your help on behalf of my friends and I. In return, I'm sure Instructor Kamata would be able to escort you home and apologize to your parents for the trouble we've caused –"

"Oh no, please don't trouble yourselves over me. You see, I'm actually not from around here. I just arrived in Kyoto today."

Akira stared at the scrawny kid, thoroughly unconvinced. His now jacket-less, bare upper body (except for his pair of arm-guards) revealed lean, wiry muscle on his slight, youthful frame, but his skinniness was a far cry from something to brag about. Thinking the kid must be disoriented still from when the delinquent teenager had struck him with his shinai, Akira's imagination filled in the gaps for the kid's self-confidence.

"So, I suppose that means you're an orphan? We could convince Instructor Kamata to let you stay the night then, if you like? There are several live-in students already staying here at the dojo, I'm sure they can accommodate another person for one night at least."

"Hm, that sounds very tempting, but –"

Their awkward conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Assistant Master, who came barreling into the training hall with an ashamed Isamu in tow, dragged along by the collar. He glanced back and forth between Akira and the boy while catching his breath before bluntly inquiring:

"Where is Isao?"

"I told him to lock up, sir. He should be back soon."

And just as Akira spoke, Isao casually re-entered the training hall. Everyone watched patiently while he took his time slipping off his sandals, dusted off his _hakama_ , and bowed respectfully before entering the dojo. He froze not two steps away, finally realizing who was present in the room at the moment, Instructor Kamata glaring sternly at him and the nervous look on Isamu's face.

"I need to have a word with you three." Kamata glances at the brunette boy in their midst. "But first, Akira will go retrieve a spare training _gi_ for the boy. Then we'll talk."

The Instructor chewed out the three students for a good three hours that night and threatened to suspend them until the master returned from his trip. However, the brown-haired boy spoke up in their defence and, in the end, the three Ono-ha Itto students were punished with only two weeks' worth of cleaning chores for skipping afternoon class and causing trouble in the city while the boy with the bokken was allowed to stay the night.

/

Meanwhile, in another part of the city that night, a certain delinquent teenager was kneeling in a reception room with his head bowed before a massive figure hidden in the shadow of the candlelight. The shadows of several other mysterious characters behind the massive man flickered against the wall.

The teenager sputtered out in distress, "It wasn't my fault, father! Those damn brats caught us off guard. If they hadn't jumped us, and the police hadn't gotten in the way, I would've –"

A booming voice like gravel interrupted the boy's rambling.

"You would have _what_? Scared them off with your insufferable snoring? You expect me to believe that?"

The boy glued his mouth shut. The massive man tipped a splash of sake into his cup and took a sip. "Leave it to my idiotic son to catch unwanted attention from the police. Especially during this critical stage in the family's negotiations! What'll you do if those brats run crying to the police? What'll you do if the _Gakushigumi_ suffers because of the dim-witted stunt you pulled? Eh? _EH?!_ "

The man rose to his feet and viciously chucked his sake cup across the room where it shattered against the opposite wall. The teenager cringed back in fear. His father huffed and smoothed out the wrinkles in his _haori_ , twin golden dragons shimmering along the inlaid silk.

"Looks like I'll have to clean up after my stupid son's mess before any word of this gets back to the higher-ups. Be thankful you have such a powerful man for a father, you damn ingrate."

The man stalked out of the room, the malicious silhouettes trailing behind him.

/

The next day, training started bright and early in the Tsugaru dojo. The energetic shouts of the students reverberated across the grounds as they practiced through their routine drills in tandem. While the rest of the students were outside for morning exercises, Akira, Isao, Isamu, and the brown-haired boy were left alone, cleaning the practice equipment and the wooden floorboards of the main training hall. Around lunchtime, they took a brief rest from cleaning to eat with the rest of the students, but went straight back to scraping and scrubbing after filling their stomachs. Currently, Isao and Akira were cleaning the body armors while Isamu and the boy scurried back and forth along the floor, polishing the well-worn surface of the dark wood. As they padded across the floor side by side, Isamu stuck up conversation with the boy.

"Soooo… you say you're not from around here? Did you come to Kyoto with your parents?"

The boy obligingly replied, "I came on my own by train from Hyogo. And before that, I had to travel by foot from Osaka to Hyogo station."

"Wow, and you're parents let you do that on your own at your age? So, what brings you to Kyoto then?"

"I'm currently on a pilgrimage, partly to study the sword and partly for self-reflection. Let's see… it's been about..." The boy paused to count in his head. "Five years now since I've left home? I have also been studying _bushido_ , and cultivating my spiritual needs along the way."

"Um... Cool. That sounds... pretty interesting, I guess. You must've been four years old though, or something, when you started this pilgrimage of yours, right?"

Akira loudly cut into their idle chitchat.

"Hey, less talking, more cleaning. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can catch up with practice today. And kid..."

"Yes?"

"... Remind me again why you're helping us with chores? Or, scratch that – why are you even still here in the first place?"

The boy in question scratched his chin in thought. "Well, Isamu said he'd draw me a map of Kyoto with all the major dojos and shrines in the area. In return, I promised to stay and help out with the chores, just for today."

Akira glared at Isamu, knowing how impossible it was to know every single one of the nearly one thousand shrines there are in Kyoto. Isamu grinned guiltily and shrugged.

"I wouldn't take Isamu's word for that if I were you. This guy couldn't find a durian fruit if you held it right under his nose, not to mention a potentially threatening bully in his path swinging a shinai right in front of him."

Isao fell back on his haunches, laughing hysterically, while Isamu replied indignantly.

"Hey! Isn't that exaggerating a bit too much? I may not be the best navigator out there, but at least I know my own city. And anyone else could have walked into those idiots the way they were jumping and swinging all over the place."

The boy only smiled supportively and cheerfully replied "Don't worry, Akira! If Isamu says he can do it, I trust him. And we're both getting something out of this, so it's no big deal."

Isao let his laughter die out and both he and Akira shoot Isamu a simultaneous glare. He could practically hear their voices in his head, _shame on you for taking advantage of an innocent little kid_.

Just then, the Assistant Instructor called from outside.

"Once you three are finished in there, I need one of you to go fetch the doctor. After that, you're free to catch up on your training until your evening duties."

Isamu groaned. "Oh man, I hate that cranky old man. He chewed my ear out that last time I twisted my ankle."

Akira rolled his eyes at him.

"Maybe that's because you were – hm, I don't know – _faking_ it?"

Isao was huffing with laughter again at Isamu's expense, but managed to spit out, "Well, he may be good at his work, but I for one just can't stand the way he prattles on, and on, and on..."

Akira sighed heavily. "You two are impossible. If it's so unbearable to go fetch an old man who lives only two _ri_ away from here, I guess I'll have to go –"

The two plead gratefully to their good friend and comrade with wide, imploring eyes.

"– while you two clean the sweat and mold off from these old helmets here." And Akira pushed forward a pile of foul-looking gear with a sour smell wafting up through the air. The two boys blanched at the sight and the overpowering odor.

Before Isao and Isamu could start their complaints, the brown-haired boy piped up.

"Why don't I go call the doctor? I've never met him before, so maybe he won't get on my nerves as much as you two? Just tell me the way and I'll get going."

Akira shook his head incredulously. "Kid, you are much too gullible and nice for your own good. The doctor lives by a bamboo grove east of here, but you'll never be able to find it unless –"

"Two _ri_ , east, bamboo grove. Got it." The boy was already slipping on his sandals and out the entrance doors before Akira could say anything else.

Isamu raised an eyebrow at Akira and smartly remarked, "Look who's taking advantage of the little kid now," which earned him a smack to head from Akira before a moldy helmet was shoved onto Isamu's head.

/

"You know, back in my day the kids would bow to every person who walked into the dojo. But nowadays, the kids do nothing but chatter away and think everything is fun and games. They're even too lazy to tie their own uniforms properly! And you know what that shows? A lack of respect! A lack of discipline! Absolutely none! Why, back in the day, you'd get a good beating for showing up half a second late to class –"

The brunette boy just smiled and nodded along fervently as the old doctor rambled on about the "good old days." Having successfully followed the vague directions to the doctor's humble clinic, he was currently standing in the foyer, patiently holding the doctor's things as the old man slowly gathered up some other materials in an adjacent room. The boy was trying very hard not to let his mind wander through the elderly man's tireless drone, when he was startled by a loud banging on the door. A gruff voice yelled out from the other side.

"Hey! Anyone in there? It's the police, we'd like to speak to the owner of this house." The sounds of dogs barking could be heard beyond the door.

The old man shuffled past the boy, muttering grumpily to himself.

"All right already, hold your horses, I'm coming. Humph, even visitors these days have no respect for their elders, dropping in unannounced like this..."

The boy, however, quickly stepped after the old man.

"Hold on, _oji-san_ , I don't think you should –" There was a sudden spike of _ki_ in the air and a spark of recognition flashed across the boy's eyes. In an instant, he dove to push the old doctor out of the way just as the sliding door exploded inwards and several giant beasts came charging into the house.

The boy rolled to his feet to face the sudden threat. His eyes zeroed in on famished, frothing mouths and the chains around the snarling dogs' mangy necks, following the leads towards the massive, tattooed hands of a giant man as he hunkered through the demolished entrance. The giant glowered down at the old man rumpled on the floor and the scrawny boy beside him.

The man chortled in amusement.

"Hah! The dogs' must be losing their sense of smell if a decrepit old man and a child are supposed to be the ones who beat up the boss' son."

The boy's attention caught the familiar piece of _gi_ clutched in the man's grip. Curious. What was a piece of _his_ jacket doing in the hands of a yakuza?

"Huh, this is a waste of time," the giant hitman griped. "I should hurry and catch up with the boss, but I think I can spare a second or two to let the dogs have their breakfast first." He grins maliciously and rattled the chains, inciting the dogs to growl with impatience. "I, Okamura the Beast Tamer will let you have the honor of being my pets' first meal of the day!" The chains click noisily together, pulled taut as the giant mastiffs attempted to lunge forward.

Unfazed by the rabid dogs drooling in his face, the boy stood up straight and took an offensive stance, preparing to draw his _bokken_.

His voice was steady as he stared piercingly at the man and the snarling dogs.

"It's already past the noon hour so it's too late for breakfast, unfortunately," the boy stated calmly. "But since you're in such a hurry, Okamura-san, let's finish this quickly. It would be a shame for the dogs to miss dinner as well..." There was a flash of sharp steel in the boy's eyes as his thumb flicked the sword free from its sheathe and he took in a deep breath…

/

Isao and Isamu were deep in discussion about the mysterious brown-haired boy as they finished their make-up practice out in the courtyard. Studiously swinging a bokken next to them, Akira tried to concentrate on his striking motions, but couldn't help but follow their conversation.

"Don't you think he talks really strange for his age? I mean, we're probably not that much older than him, but I'm pretty sure kids that age aren't so good-natured and selfless. My little brother is a total brat."

"Hm, that's a good point." Isao pauses in his swinging and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, looking at his shabby clothes, he must be an orphan, right? Maybe the reason he became one is because he's... you know..." He twirled his finger around the side of his head and crossed his eyes.

Akira's bokuto came swinging in, whacking both boys hard in the gut.

"That's a horrible thing to say about the kid who helped intervene in our fight yesterday. And don't forget, it was him who stood up for us when Assistant Master Kamata was going to suspend us from training for a month as due punishment."

Isamu rubbed his stomach, but apparently didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.

"But, what if he is?" he pushed.

"Is what?"

"You know..."

Akira opened his mouth to retort something back and raised a threatening fist in annoyance – to which Isamu cringed and threw his arms up defensively – but, he couldn't find the right words to say. He had to admit to himself that the boy really was a little strange not only in looks, but behavior as well. No matter what kind of pretty words Akira used, they would only sound like an excuse to cover up the brunette boy's odd personality. Truthfully, Akira felt a bit vexed at being one-upped by a child when it came to averting the street fight and pacifying the assistant instructor's anger. Being saved by others, by a someone younger especially, always didn't settle well with Akira. But deep down, he could feel that there was more to the boy than outside appearances, a sharp glint of intelligence in his blue eyes disguised by his innocence and charming politeness...

The sound of barking dogs and screaming students suddenly ripped through the air, startling the three friends. Akira, Isao, and Isamu looked at each other in alarm. Wordlessly, they came to a unanimous decision and together, rushed back towards the main training hall.

As they came barreling into the training hall, they could only gape in horror at the scene unfolding before them.

The hall was in complete and utter chaos, students scattered every which way to escape giant-sized mastiffs lunging at them and blood splattering across the floor as legs and arms were caught by the dogs' huge claws and teeth. They recognized Assistant Master Kamata and a few older students in full armour madly swinging their shinai, trying to save the other students and keep the vicious beasts at bay.

His instincts kicking into gear, Akira fearlessly jumped into the fray, saving a student closest to him from getting his face savagely bitten off. He delivered a powerful swing and two quick stabs of his bokken into the dog's eyes, stunning it, then quickly dragged the student to safety.

Following Akira's lead, Isao and Isamu jumped in as well, backing up one of the older students who was being cornered by two aggravated mastiffs.

Despite the bolstering of their defence that came from the three boys' arrival, the size and ferocity of the mastiffs were quickly overpowering them, forcing them to slowly retreat to the back of the hall. As the students start to gather together in a protective circle and the starving dogs stalked closer with every step, Kamata called out to his pupils.

"Defensive formation! We'll cover the injured and younger students' escape to the back gate and barricade ourselves in the residence quarters!"

Just then, a loud whistle shrieked through the air and the dogs froze. A booming voice guffawed amidst the sudden pause in the action.

"Gahaha! That damn Okamura! These Tibetan mastiffs are the most bloodthirsty beasts I've ever seen in my life! I should remind myself to give him a raise when we get back."

A burly man in finely-made clothes, composed of a silk _gi_ , _hakama_ , and dragon-patterned _haori_ overcoat, strode arrogantly into the disparaged dojo followed by several tattooed lackeys. Still chortling to himself, he sneered at the haggard residents of the Tsugaru dojo.

"So, where are they? The arrogant brats who mussed up my son the other day? Hand them over quietly and I'll think about sparing this dojo's precious students."

Kamata glared furiously at the intruders, risking a subtle glance over his shoulder at Akira, Isao, and Isamu with similar defiant looks on their faces.

"There is no one here who would rashly attack an unarmed civilian – that is not the teachings of this dojo. I am sorry to hear of your son's misfortune, but I must ask you to leave at once, or else –"

The man cut him off with another full-bellied laugh.

"Or else what? You'll attack us with those flimsy sticks of yours? If you haven't noticed, you're in no position to be making threats, little man. And don't try to bargain your way out of this either. A dog's nose never lies." He brandished a piece of cloth at them, which Akira recognized as part of the brown-haired boy's _gi_.

The self-important man pulled out a pocket watch from his sleeve. "You know what, I change my mind. I have better things to do than chase after a couple of smart-assed kids." He turned his back to them as if to leave and lifts his hand to signal his lackeys. "Kill them all."

One lackey with a dog whistle stepped forward and was about to blow when –

" _Wait!_ " Kamata stepped forward, lowering his shinai. "You want to know who beat up your son? It was me. I did it."

Akira and the other students jumped up in horror.

"NO! Instructor, you can't do this! It was our fault –"

Isao and Isamu pulled Akira back, the boy having nearly stepped too close to one of the snarling dogs.

"Instructor Kamata –!" Akira cried out.

Kamata silenced his students with an authoritative shout of, " _Be Quiet!"_ And he stood resolutely before the squirming beasts and the yakuza.

The burly yakuza leader took one look at the man before him and burst into hysterics, bent over his gut and wiped an inexistent tear from his eye with the piece of _gi_ he held in his grasp.

" _Gahaha!_ Look at this upstanding young man! _Ha!_ Willing to sacrifice himself for his students? The selflessness is so obvious it's sickening!"

He continued to chortle heartily to himself, and his followers laughed along with him, but when the Tsugaru students continued to glare stonily at him, his face turned serious.

"All right, if you're so determined to take the blame, you can take the punishment for their crimes against one of our own."

He snaps his fingers and a lackey comes forward with a corked bottle. He uncorks it and chucked it at Kamata, who swung his shinai and skillfully shatters the bottle before it could even make a scratch on him, however, a red liquid bursts out and splattered him from head to foot.

The dogs suddenly stop snarling and sniffed the air eagerly with a hungry look in their eyes.

A nasty smirk stretched across the yakuza leader's face.

"That's chicken blood. Our mutts aren't particularly picky when it comes to fresh meat..." The dogs quickly circle around Kamata, tongues lolling hungrily from their mouths. "... But they simply _love_ fresh chicken the most! _Gahaha!_ "

The first dog lunged at Kamata from behind. He spun around and defended against its massive jowls by thrusting his shinai down its wide open mouth and choking it. The colossal dog's weight, however, was too much for him and forced him backwards into the jaws of another one. The second mastiff's jaws bit deeply into his shoulder and he cried out in surprise and pain as the weight of the dog brought him down to his knees. Seeing their chance, the beasts pounced on their struggling prey.

" _NOOOO!_ "

Akira tore himself out of Isao and Isamu's grips, they and the other students too shocked and paralyzed with fear to move. He charged forward and elbowed one dog in the snout about to leap in as well, then proceeded to swing his bokuto heavily on the mass of dogs, purposely aiming for their eyes. Momentarily dissuaded by Akira's fierce attack, the dogs backed off slightly, growling in annoyance.

Akira took up a defensive position over Kamata's bloodied body.

As the dogs made another approach, Akira swung once more. One dog swiped at his leg with its claws, drawing blood, and another caught the bokuto in its jaws. Akira's eyes widened in shock as his only means of defense was splintered in two by one vicious shake of the dog's head.

Time seemed to move sluggishly as the beasts leaped in on the now defenseless swordsmen and Isao and Isamu screamed, " _AKIRA LOOK OUT!_ "

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

An powerful _ki-ai_ reverberated through the hall and every living, breathing body in the room was stunned by the drop in the atmosphere. The yakuza underlings still lingering outside seemed to notice something behind them and swivelled around to charge at the approaching threat. Several loud smacks were rung through the air and one by one, the entourage of yakuza collapsed to ground, some with their faces and ears bludgeoned, some with blood leaking from their mouths and noses despite no sign of any other external wounds.

Dumbfounded by the sight, the yakuza leader took an unconscious step back.

In the midst of the beaten yakuza subordinates stood the brown-haired boy, the white _saya_ tucked into his belt while he held up his drawn _bokken_ with both hands. The wood of the sword was black, smooth and grainless, like ceramic.

The burly yakuza pointed an accusing finger at the boy.

"YOU! What do you think you're doing? What happened to my men?!"

Infuriated, the man's face turned a ferocious red.

The boy confronted the burly man's anger with a calm voice.

"No need to worry. They are all still alive, I simply knocked them unconscious since they were in the way. Like your other underling." He stepped aside slightly, allowing a view of the front yard where the old doctor stood next to several crestfallen mastiffs, heads bowed in submission and harnessed to a pull-cart, which hefted the unconscious, giant man with no visible injuries except a mysterious, prominent bruise across his throat. The stout yakuza leader gaped in disbelief and the boy continued.

"This is my only warning to you; take your pets and subordinates and leave. Never bother this dojo and their students again."

The students in question were currently staring in awe and at the strange boy as if he were a completely different person from the ragged, mild-mannered orphan they had offered food and shelter the day before. It was then that a sudden realization dawned on Akira and he whispered to himself.

"Kid, you're really..."

A dangerous shadow crossed over the brawny man's face and he glared in irritation at the confident boy in front of him.

"Ah, you're really getting on my nerves now, you insolent brat. If you really want me to believe you did in Okamura and his mastiffs single-handedly, then I suppose I should believe this belongs to you?" He held out the remaining piece of the boy's gi.

The brown-haired boy's face lit up. "Oh, there it is! Yes, that's definitely mine. I suppose that makes you the insufferable father who raised his bastard son to be a hot-headed idiot?" his brash comment contrasted with the sweet smile on his face.

And with that, the boy apparently crossed the line. Growling angrily, the man dug into his sleeves and pulled out a whistle and another corked bottle. He lobbed the bottle at the boy and blew on the whistle with all his might.

At that moment in time, two things happened at once.

First, that particular whistle pitched so loudly that the screech could barely be heard, but the dogs responded and lope away from Akira and the other students, bounding towards the two opposing figures and reaching them in less than three leaps.

Second, the boy suddenly lowered his sword and allowed the bottle of chicken blood to shatter against his forehead without the slightest flinch. The mastiffs caught wind of the fresh blood immediately and growled crazily with hunger as they lunged at him.

The boy breathed in deeply and –

" _HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_ "

The giant mastiffs falter in fear at the sudden release of ki, thundering through the air like an earthquake. In that moment of hesitation, the boy moved swift as lightning, weaving through the pack of dogs and skillfully swinging his bokken, aiming a hard swing at the base of the skull of every dog he passes. One by one the dogs collapsed from the shock to their spines, whimpering pitifully on the ground.

Beyond angry now, the fuming yakuza leader pulled out his katana and charged at the boy.

" _YOU DAMN BRAAAAAT!_ "

Time again seemed to move in slow motion as the boy lowered his body slightly, but Akira realized that the stance he took was significantly different.

 _Tsuki o utsu-ryu._

The brunette boy held the hilt up to his chin with the edge of the blade face up and horizontal to the ground. As the man's sword came swinging down, the boy suddenly leaned forward at an angle, whipping the tip of his blade up in an elegant arc and clubbing the man's wrist, knocking his swing off target. The man cried out in surprise and unwittingly dropped his katana. At the end of the arcing motion, the boy swiftly spun on his front foot, leaped forward and thrust the point of his sword straight at the man's throat, crushing his windpipe.

 _Hangetsu_.

And the yakuza boss collapsed to the floor with the rest of his men.

/

That evening, police officers swarmed the grounds of the Tsugaru dojo. Here and there, some of the older students could be seen conversing with the investigators while others could be found cleaning up the blood and debris from the aftermath of the conflict. The doctor's medical assistants had been called out and were kept busy running back and forth from the residence quarters where all the injured were gathered into a temporary clinic of sorts. Everyone was thankful and relieved to hear that there had been no casualties, but, as the grumpy old doctor had put it, "With the number of wounds that need stitches, at this rate I'll be stitching until New Years' eve." At the front entrance, policemen were cleaning up the scene, dragging the unconscious bodies of the yakuza away, but were surprisingly having a much easier time with the massive dogs, who seemed to be relatively submissive now that they had been fed and promptly chastised by a proper dog trainer after the incident.

With his leg tightly bandaged, Akira wandered through the grounds with a folded-up cloth in his arms, particularly searching for the brunette boy. He found the familiar short figure, brown-haired head covered in bandages, hiding cuts from the broken bottle. A group of the mastiffs sat at attention before him, all nearly the same height as him.

The boy affectionately pet the one nearest to him and reprimanded them one last time.

"You guys be good now. You don't have to listen to those terrible yakuza anymore, but that doesn't mean you can go taking a bite out of anyone you please now, got it? Captain Mishima is a good man, he'll get you to Tibet somehow, I'm sure of it." He smiled good-naturedly and the dog gave him a slobbery lick before the group of them were herded away by an officer.

Akira took this chance to approach and quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You do realize that not all Tibetan mastiffs come from Tibet?"

The boy laughed pleasantly at his remark.

"That's true. But, I'm sure they'd be much happier herding livestock out in the open fields there, than starving in metal cages here."

Akira's serious gaze softened a little as he stared at the strange brown-haired, blue-eyed boy who barely stood up past his nose. Then he suddenly remembered the question he had been saving in the back of his mind.

"Hey. How old did you say you were?"

"Fourteen. I'm turning fifteen in a couple of months."

Akira gaped. "But – I– wait. Fourteen? But, you're –?"

The boy chuckles and waves away his confusion.

"Sorry for surprising you, but don't worry about it. You're not the only one who has made that mistake. I know I'm a little on the scrawny side. I'm sort of used to it by now."

Still in shock, Akira bows his head.

"I – guess that explains a lot... sorry for assuming."

"No offense taken," he said. The boy smiles and brushes the topic aside. "Well, I suppose I should be on my way now. I sincerely apologize for the trouble I've caused with the yakuza. Please let Assistant Master Kamata know when he wakes up. I'll make sure to leave an obvious trail so that any more yakuza tracking me will know that I'm not associated with this dojo any longer." He backed up and gave a deep bow in one smooth motion.

"Thank you for everything, Akira-san."

As he turned around to leave, Akira felt something twitch inside his chest. Watching the not-so-young boy's departing figure, he couldn't quite describe the emotion he was feeling, not knowing what it was. But, there was one thing he understood – he realized that he had to call him back. So he did.

He cupped his hands together and called out, "How do you think you're going to survive without any supplies? If I recall, you lost yours yesterday while we were running in the streets."

The retreating called back, "I'll manage somehow. I've been flat broke before during my pilgrimage."

"And the training _gi_ we lent you?"

"I'll find a new one as soon as possible and send this one back to you by postage, you have my word."

"Oh really? Then I guess you don't need this old thing anymore..." Akira opened up the cloth in his arms and yanked it out, revealing the boy's own short-sleeved gi, bleached clean and sewn back together neatly.

The sudden appearance of his lost-and-found _gi_ drew the boy's full attention.

"Wow, Akira-san! Thank you so much! I thought I'd lost that thing for good –" He quickly backtracked to the other boy's side and reached out to take the jacket, only for Akira to yank it back, just out of his reach.

"You know, I could tell this _gi_ seemed important to you, so I went through a lot of trouble to find these pieces under the yakuza's smelly bodies –"

The boy bobbed his head apologetically.

"– and I spent a lot of time washing the stench out of it too –"

The boy was visibly sweating a little now.

"– and I skipped dinner just now to finish sewing it back together –"

Unable to hold back, the boy blurted, "I'm really sorry you had to go through all that trouble for me, Akira-san, but why –?"

"What I'm saying is, we're even now. So, why don't we start over... as friends?"

He presented the _gi_ and placed it in the boy's hands. "And as friends, it's ok for me to ask you to stay, right?"

The boy was quiet for a moment, staring at the patched cloth in his hands still damp from the wash. Slowly, a genuine smile smoothed over his face and his clear eyes lit up softly. He looked up at Akira and nodded his head in agreement.

"I did say I haven't had the chance to see Tsugaru Ono-ha Itto style before, didn't I?"

They both smiled at each other in companionable silence for a moment, before Akira stepped back slightly and bowed.

"Shinoda Akira, fifteen. Nice to meet you."

The brown-haired boy did the same.

"Himura Kensei, fourteen. Nice to meet you too, Akira-san."

"Just call me Akira and I'll call you Kensei, no need for formalities. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"Well Kensei, I'm sure if we hurry we can still catch some dinner before they clean up."

"Dinner sounds like a good idea."

As the two boys head back across the grounds, Kensei examined his repaired gi. "By the way, Akira, this is some really nice needlework you've done. Where did you learn to make such fine stitches?"

"My mother taught me. She always told me a woman's stitches must be as refined as the lady who stitches them. It shows their sincerity."

"Ah, I see." Kensei took several more steps before the entirety of that sentence caught up with him.

"Hold on. Akira... are… you... um–?"

"Yes, I am a girl, if you were wondering."

"..."

"It's not a secret either, I just have a habit of referring to myself as a boy. And everyone in the dojo already knows, so it's not a big deal."

"..."

"Sorry for surprising you, but don't worry about it. You're not the only one." Akira quoted Kensei's earlier remark with a smile and continued walking towards the dining hall.

Kensei self-consciously reddened in the face and could only gape wide-eyed after him – _her_.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I only have a vague idea of how the rules of kendo work, so for the sake of fiction, creative licence, and the crazy physics of manga, don't take any of it seriously! Also, some actual historical info is mentioned near the end of the chapter for those of you Japanese history buffs out there (although it is used as an inaccurate plot-point in this story).

 **Terms:**

Seiza – proper, respectful way of sitting, in a kneeling position with feet folded beneath you

Daisho – matched pair of traditional swords, the long sword (katana) and the short sword (wakizashi)

Men – head

Kote – wrists, or forearms

Do – trunk/chest

-ari – a point in Kendo

Mangetsu – full moon

Aizu – western region of the Fukushima prefecture

 **Ch 2: A Watarimono Meets With A Master Swordsman**

It had been nearly a week since the pilgrim swordsman, Kensei, had taken up residence in the Tsugaru dojo.

Gossip about the strange boy who single-handedly defeated the yakuza and their ferocious attack dogs spread like wildfire through the dojo and the neighbourhood. Everyone was wondering to themselves:

 _"Where did this impossibly strong kid come from?"_

 _"You should've heard it! His ki-ai was so powerful, he nearly shook the roof down on our heads!"_

 _"He was faster than the wind, in less than a second both the beasts and all the yakuza were blown away by one swing of his bokken. I could barely follow it with my own eyes."_

 _"Who is he really?"_

 _"It's gotta be a lie! I won't believe something so ridiculous unless I see it for myself."_

 _"Maybe it was all just a trick. He could be a spy for the police, trying to steal the Tsugaru style's secret techniques since they've been refusing them for so long."_

 _"Yeah, he could be in league with those yakuza, for all we know. I don't trust him."_

 _"Idiots! If you had seen it for yourselves, you'd think twice about saying he's a fake."_

 _"Then why else would he stay at the Tsugaru dojo for? Are they keeping him as some kind of secret weapon? If he's such a hot-shot swordsman, maybe they're keeping him as a bodyguard – or, maybe they're trying to learn all his special techniques and skills – or, maybe –"_

And so, the rumors had continued to spread chaotically like so for the days following the incident. The mysterious brunette, blue-eyed boy in question, however, was not on bodyguard duty, nor teaching classes to the students of the Tsugaru dojo. Currently, he was peacefully sitting in the backyard of the residence quarters doing all the laundry for the dojo's occupants, softly whistling a cheerful tune to himself.

Squatting on a wooden stool, he was bent over a large washtub scrubbing the pieces of cloth along the scrubbing board. He took his time wringing the water out of each cloth, sharply whipping out the last drops moisture from them and clipping them to the clothes line hanging above him.

"There, all clean," he stated, proudly observing his handiwork.

Kensei whistled contently to himself while the sounds of energetic activity could be heard from the dojo and training area close by. After cleaning out the washtub and putting the items away he made his way to the dojo, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the sparring matches before lunchtime.

As he walked onto the terrace, however, it seems apparent to him that the shouts he had heard all morning were not for kenjutsu practice, like he assumed. Several students rushed past him with boards and hammers slung over their shoulders and the whole yard was filled with students armed with broomsticks, brushes and tools, sweeping the cobblestone paths, shearing the bushes around the walls, polishing the front porch and fixing up new sliding doors for the dojo entrance to replace the ones destroyed by the yakuza; inside the dojo, Kensei gawked as even more of the students were busy tidying up – standing on each other's shoulders to dust off the traditional dojo artifacts hanging from the walls while replacing damaged ones with other items. A troop of students were polishing up the drums and repainting the scratch marks; a group were re-arranging the whole equipment rack; and another platoon of them raced across the floor in perfect cleaning formation.

As he stood there wondering what to do with himself (to help or thoughtfully observe), Isao, carrying a load of scrolls in his arms, came jogging past him along the porch, then quickly backtracked to acknowledge Kensei standing prone in the dojo entrance.

"Oh, Kensei. Akira was just about to go get you. Assistant Master Kamata wants to speak with you."

Kensei raised his brows in honest curiosity.

"Kamata-san does?"

Isao nodded. "Yeah. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to him. I'm just heading over to his room right now."

"Hmm..." Kensei wondered quizzically to himself, silently hoping he didn't get assigned something too laborious, like fixing the roof, as that was the only spot he noticed hadn't been thoroughly covered yet. Laundry and cooking he could handle, but his small stature just wasn't made for construction work.

/

The chaotic cleaning seemed to continue all the way to the residence halls where Kamata's room was located. The young instructor had been bedridden after the incident, so lessons had been postponed while the man recuperated. Aside from various gashes over his body, the man had suffered most from the bite on his shoulder; luckily, the doctor had said he would regain use of his arm with ample rest and recuperation. And so, he had spent the past week resting in his quarters, gradually regaining his strength. In truth, Kensei had heard the instructor had regained consciousness a few days prior, but he had yet to talk with the man since the incident.

The door was wide open when they arrived, students with similar-looking scrolls to the ones Isao carried freely rushing in and out. As they walked in and Isao spoke up.

"I've brought Kensei and last month's records, sir."

"Thank you, Isao. Leave them here please."

Isao dropped the scrolls in a growing pile by the table Kamata was seated at, writing busily away with one hand, the other resting in a sling, and quickly left to presumably pick up more.

Kamata glanced up at Kensei and said plainly, "Please, take a seat."

Kensei removes his bokken from his belt and knelt down on the tatami. Kamata finished marking off the sheet in front of him and put down the brush.

"I must apologize, I haven't had the chance to thank you properly yet for saving my students and this dojo from the yakuza. If it wasn't for you, perhaps we wouldn't be here right now." The man backed up from the table on his knees and bowed his head deeply. "You have my deepest gratitude. If there is anything we can do to repay you –"

Kensei waved his hands, flustered at the sudden show of respect. The man was several years older than him after all.

"Please, Instructor Kamata, there's no need to thank me. It was partially my fault in the first place that the yakuza followed us back to the dojo. I'm just glad that everyone is safe."

"I see..."

Kamata regarded Kensei thoughtfully for a moment, remembering the look of intensity on the boy's now innocent and humble features when he had dealt the final blow to the yakuza boss. Kamata would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by the mysterious boy who alone had defeated a group of gangsters, plus their pack of attack dogs in tow, all of them practically twice his weight in muscle. He himself probably wouldn't believe it had he not witnessed the boy's display of swordsmanship in person while he lay bleeding and incapacitated on the training hall floor. The gracefulness and ease with which he swung the heavy bokken, and the oppressive _ki_ he had felt that day was all the proof he needed to not underestimate the smiling, carefree boy in front of him now. Like all the others, Kamata had many questions for the boy who had suddenly showed up on their doorstep, but for now, he kept them to himself. Every man had his secrets and Kamata respected Kensei's privacy.

"Well then, I'll move on to the next matter at hand. I'm sure you've noticed that the dojo is quite busy today with cleaning and maintenance for the damages caused by the yakuza."

Kensei nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"And I'm sure by now everyone has expressed their thanks and have become good friends to you during this past week..."

Kensei nodded again.

"And you really have nowhere else to stay at the moment, since you've lost your supplies in the incident prior..."

Kensei nodded for a third time, fidgeting a little at the sudden frown appearing on Kamata's forehead.

"And, although it might be best if you leave now while you still can, we can't just let you go the way things are now..."

Although Kensei had no idea where this conversation was heading, Kamata's anxious demeanor was worrying and he found himself sweating nervously along with the instructor. He finally dared to ask:

"Excuse me, Instructor, but what do you mean by, 'leave now while I still can'?"

The young Ono-ha Itto style instructor cleared an inexistent itch in his throat, coughing pointedly into his fist.

"Well... to put it bluntly..."

Kensei leaned in apprehensively.

Kamata held up a letter with an official looking seal stamped on the corner.

"... Master Tsugaru is returning tomorrow morning."

/

"I guess I can understand why everyone is so distressed in a way, since it was on such short notice. But still, don't you think this is a bit much? Just a little?"

Kensei whispered to Isamu.

All the residents of the dojo, including the old doctor, his assistants, the kitchen hands, and the students who lived outside the dojo, were amassed in the large training hall, half the group on one side and half on the other, all facing the center space that was created down the middle of the hall leading up to the headmaster's alcove. Everyone was dressed in their best uniforms, and even Kensei was lent a finely woven garment like everyone else's for the occasion. He and Isamu were currently sitting near the back in a corner of the hall. If Kensei stretched his neck a little, he could make out Akira and Isao sitting near the front on the opposite side. Kamata and a few senior students were currently positioned at the entrance gates, prepared to receive the Master upon his arrival.

Isamu shook his head incredulously at him, giving him a funny look.

"Oh, you think this is ' _a bit much'_? Trust me, Kensei, this is nowhere close to what we should've done. I mean, we didn't even have time to properly replace all the sliding doors, not to mention the front gate and the Camellia bushes – oh man, now you reminded me about the Camellia bushes! The Master's not going to take too kindly to seeing his prized bushes trampled over and ruined..."

Kensei gave his friend a reassuring pat on the back as the other boy threaded fingers tightly through his hair uneasily.

The sound of the front gates creaking open on their broken hinges quieted the soft murmuring of the gathered group. They could hear the voices of Kamata and several others slowly grow louder as they approached from the pathway outside.

Everyone in the hall was held in suspense as the pitch of the voices steadied, suggesting the group had paused in their approach somewhere outside. Kensei supposed they were inspecting the crushed and ruined Camellias.

The voices soon move on and quickly arrive on the porch just outside the hall. The crude, temporary paper doors slid open abruptly, revealing a brusque, square-jawed man with a long, thin scar running from his split right ear, over his right eye and up into his scalp. Complete with thick, caterpillar-like eyebrows, a cap of wild gray hair, and massive hands, Kensei could immediately tell just by looking why everyone was so on edge for the past two days. With a Master who had such an intimidating presence, he couldn't blame them. The only thing he couldn't understand was where the dainty Camellias fit into this man's gruff image.

The gathering of people bowed before the Master and uttered in unison, "Welcome back, Master Tsugaru!"

Kensei noted how, despite the man's hunched appearance, he carried himself quite gracefully as he made his way to the head of the room. Light footsteps were the sign of a master swordsman.

Two additional unfamiliar faces along with Kamata followed close behind the Master, while the senior students took their spots amongst the group on either side. After they had settled in their places, Master Tsugaru addressed the group before him.

"Assistant Master Kamata tells me some of you caused some trouble with the police during the two months I've been gone."

Kensei could tell by the way Kamata stiffened in his seat that the Master's blunt way of broaching the topic wasn't exactly how he would have preferred it to happen. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breaths in anticipation of a storm.

"You lot should count yourselves lucky to have such a generous Instructor, as he has refused to give me specific names for the ones who caused the trouble. I will say this, however..."

He casually dropped out of his formal _seiza_ position and sat back on his haunches, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"The ones responsible should thoroughly reflect on the consequences of their actions. Dragging their fellow students into the fighting, causing unnecessary damage to the sacred dojo, and nearly getting my best assistant instructor killed –"

"He's your only assistant instructor –" One of the two companions who had arrived with the Master, a boy around the same age as Kensei and the others, says cheekily from his spot in the front row, earning him a hard thump on the head by one of the Master's giant fists, causing the students in the front row to jump slightly in their seats.

"That's enough out of you, Ichiro. Now, where was I? Hm, right – the destruction your careless actions have wrought on the dojo and your comrades seems like ample punishment indeed –"

Everyone released the breath they had unconsciously been holding at the sign of the tension in the room subsiding. However, Master Tsugaru continued –

"– but, if you think I'd be satisfied with just shameful feelings, then you are all sorely mistaken."

He stood up, walked over to the equipment rack nearby and hefts a shinai into his hands. He turns to the students and bears over them with a severe expression on his face.

"Either the troublemakers step forward, beg for forgiveness before myself and the Tsugaru daisho, and duel against me now, or else I will carry out capital punishment for each and every one of you, right here. Right now."

Kensei stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the Master as he brandished the shinai at the gathering of students, who looked at each other in a panic. However, nobody made a move, unsure of how to respond.

"No? Well, then why don't we start with you in the front row –"

"Wait."

From across the room, Kensei watched as Akira briskly stood up and walked through the rows of students into the open space before the headmaster. She knelt and bowed her head to the floor.

"It was me, Master Tsugaru."

The severe man scoffed over Akira's hunched over form before him, unconvinced.

" _Hooooh_ , really now? The strict, no-nonsense Akira, causing such trouble in my absence?"

"It's the truth, sir," she replied in a calm voice.

"And that may be so, but I refuse to believe you are the only one at fault. If the others don't show their faces to me now, I'll flog each one of you twice as hard –"

"I'm sorry, Master Tsugaru –" "I was involved too, sir –"

Both Isamu and Isao stood up tersely. Kensei gave his companion a nervous look from his seat on the floor, but the other boy wouldn't meet his eyes, looking unfalteringly at their kenjutsu Master.

When the two of them joined Akira in the center of the room with their foreheads bowed to the floor, the Master regarded the three of them carefully.

"That took longer than I expected to flush you out. I suppose I should simply beat you three alone and wipe my hands of this matter as soon as possible."

The tension among the students seemed to loosen momentarily and Master Tsugaru's eyes subtly regarded the general relief permeating the air.

"However," he continued. "I am thoroughly disappointed now in the lack of honor and camaraderie between my students. Would the rest of you watch in silence while I beat your fellow pupils, relieved for your own sakes at being safe from punishment? If that is how it is, then it's only fair that I deal out the punishment to every one of you after all. Then, I will start off with you three."

He raised the shinai with one hand, Akira's back being his apparent first target, when a steady voice spoke up from a corner of the hall.

"I don't think that's fair at all."

The shinai froze inches away from Akira's defenseless back. Kensei neatly rose to his feet. He and the Master lock eyes and Kensei ignored the vigorously shaking heads of Akira, Isao and Isamu, warning him to back off. Kamata and the other students stared in a panic at their guest's intervention.

Master Tsugaru's harsh eyes narrowed at the indignant boy who dared to challenge him.

"So, you think my reasoning is unjust, boy? What's your name? I don't recall seeing your face around here before..." the older man scratched his chin in thought.

Kamata quickly cut in.

"He's a new student. He joined the dojo soon after you left, Master Tsugaru." The lie came easily from his mouth.

The stern man paused to muse over this new information. "... a new student, you say?"

Kensei walked out to the open space on the floor and stood between his three friends and the threatening man. He faced the current Master of the Ono-ha Itto style and explained himself.

"It's true, there are many at fault for the injustices done to this honorable dojo and its students, but none of the ones responsible are present in this room right now. They are all probably in prison right now... except for me."

The Master chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the boy's blatant display of honesty.

"I have to admit boy, I like your courage. So, are you telling me you would take this punishment in your friends' steads?"

"No, I am not."

Whispers hissed around the room and stares curiously turned to Kensei in surprise. Master Tsugaru waited patiently for him to clarify his position, but when the boy made no move to reply, the Master prompted him.

"So what would you have me do? No matter what you say, discipline must be carried out. But, if you're so hard set on preventing any punishment at all, then I will hand you the first penalty – duel with me, in honor of the dogma of the Tsugaru Ono-ha Itto style."

/

As the sun reached its peak in the sky, lunch sat forgotten in the dining room while the inhabitants of the Tsugaru dojo were all gathered in the main training hall. The spectators lined up along the outer edges of the hall, leaving an enclosed space on the floor perfect for a one-on-one duel. Even the cleaning staff and the old doctor and his assistants had come by to watch.

In the middle of the hall, the Master of the Tsugaru dojo stood patiently, a dominating figure in full protective gear as Kensei made the final adjustments to his own armor with Akira's help.

Akira sighed in exasperation.

"I should have guessed that a good outcome was impossible from the start. Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this?"

Kensei shrugged evasively, causing his over-sized helmet to pop up.

"Well it's too late to back out now, even if I wanted to. I'm not too keen on having to swing my sword unnecessarily, but if this is what it takes to pacify Master Tsugaru, then I'll just let him end it quickly."

"If you say so, Kensei." She helped him reset the helmet and tied it securely to his head. She said a little more quietly, "But since it's come to this, you have my permission to knock some sense into that inflated head of his." She nodded approvingly and slapped him heartily on the back.

Not sure whether to take her seriously or if she was being sarcastic, Kensei laughed weakly and made an unsuccessful attempt to scratch his head, thwarted by the thick gloves and bulky helmet. She sighed again at his timid appearance.

"That was a joke. Just keep your focus and you'll be lucky to come out with only a dozen bruises."

He froze on that last comment, contemplating the implication behind it, when Akira pushed him out onto the floor. Shinai in hand, he stepped before his opponent in the center of the area.

Kamata took his place between them, assuming the role of referee.

"I assume you are familiar with the rules of a one-on-one match? The first to gain two points is the winner." His question was directed at Kensei as he eyed the boy nervously.

Unable to nod in the bulky equipment, Kensei waved his hand in acknowledgment.

"All right then. Competitors, draw your swords."

Kensei and the Master ready their shinai.

"Bow."

They squat in unison and slowly rise...

"Fight!"

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

At the same time, both swordsmen release their _ki-ai_. The release of two powerful ki's hurls an echoing vibration through the air of the training hall, sending chills down the spectators' spines. The two duelists circle each other cautiously.

Master Tsugaru threw in a compliment as the swordsmen slowly orbited the center of the room.

"That's some impressive ki you have there, boy. You have a strong spirit. But, you can't win a duel with a strong will alone."

He suddenly lunged forward, surprisingly fast for his age and size. Kensei hurriedly blocked and the shinai scraped the side of his helmet, the force of the thrust pushing him back slightly. But, just as quickly as he had attacked, the Master had pulled back a comfortable distance and resumed his stance.

With that vicious initial confrontation over in an instant, Kensei could already feel the sweat rolling down his temples from the pressure alone. Barely a minute into the match and he had glimpsed a feeling he hadn't felt in quite a while – fear. It didn't matter that they now wore protective armor to prevent any injuries or fatalities, Kensei had truly believed in that moment that his head would roll had he not brought his shinai up in time to block. A Master swordsman's presence was terrifying indeed.

"What's the matter, boy? If you intend to just stand there gawking, you'll lose both your arms next."

The man suddenly shifted his body to the left and Kensei instinctively moved to defend, realizing too late that it was a feint. In an instant, the larger man broke through his guard and struck him in the face, all in one fluid motion. The force of the blow threw him sideways and he landed heavily on the floor several feet away.

"Kensei!"

Akira moved to stand up, but was quickly stopped by Kamata. He announced loudly:

" _Men-ari!_ One point... And _Kote-ari_ , one point!"

An excited murmur rippled through the students at the sudden turn of events. "What just happened? Did Master Tsugaru get the _Men-ari_ or the _Kote-ari?_ " "No, the Master definitely went for the head, not the wrist." "Wait, then that means..."

A grin broke out on the Master's face.

" _Kote-ari?_ What an interesting brat you are..." A fire was lit in the old Master's eyes as he recalled the attack. In the moment that he had struck the boy on the face, Kensei had, at the same time, brought his shinai down on the older man's forearms, earning him a point as well. It was a clean, deliberate hit and Kamata had recognized that.

From his spot on the floor, Kensei pushed himself up and shook his head to clear the flashing lights from his eyes.

Both swordsmen move back to the center for the second round. As Kamata gave the signal, Kensei's mind was racing. He had come to the conclusion that, with what he'd seen so far in that last round – his instincts told him he couldn't take the risk of encountering another hit and throwing the match like he had planned. His head was throbbing and the image of his surroundings through the wired mask was shaky. But even so, he was also in no condition to go on the offensive and try to gain another point on the imposing opponent in front of him, whose form wobbled confusingly to and fro before his eyes. As Kensei was mulling over his limited options, the Master dove at him once more and Kensei was forced to dodge and defend.

In a flurry of movement, the two swordsmen were flying across the floor, shinai whipping through the air and feet darting along the boards in a vicious dance. Urgently trying to keep his distance, Kensei was continuously pushed back and the two duelists went dashing through the throng of spectators on one side of the room, who quickly scurried out of the way in a panic.

"There's nowhere else to run, boy! Stand and face me!"

Master Tsugaru yelled out as Kensei backed towards one of the large pillars of the training hall.

Like a cornered animal, Kensei's instincts kicked in once more.

Spinning around, Kensei ran towards the pillar. The Master followed him with a final lunge and swung down on the boy as time seems to slow. In mid-swing, the brusque Master watched, wide-eyed as the boy continued moving in an inexplicable direction – by running _up_ the pillar. As his swing came down on empty air, Kensei leapt off at the peak of his ascent, hurdling over the Master's head. He spun around with his shinai at the ready.

 _Tsuki o utsu-ryu – Mangetsu._

With the back of the man's head wide open, Kensei shouted, was about to swing in for the point as he hovered past him – when he saw Akira's horrified look out of the corner of his eye. For that split second, he froze.

That moment of hesitation was all the old Master needed to regain his footing. Spinning like a top, Master Tsugaru brought his shinai around, striking the airborne boy in the stomach and sending him flying. Kensei collided into the equipment rack several feet away with a thundering crash as splinters and training gear were sent collapsing over him.

" _D-Do-ari!"_ In shock, Kamata stuttered the point and quickly rushed over as Akira and the other students frantically hurried to the pile of equipment to dig out the fallen swordsman.

Isao and Isamu pull the boy's still body out of the rubble, the helmet knocked free from his head by the impact. Akira anxiously shook him.

"Kensei? Hey! Can you hear me? Kensei!" She slapped him a couple of times for good measure.

"... Ugh..." the boy finally gasped.

"Are you all right? Say something!"

"... Sorry... broke... the rack..." And he passed out.

"Hey! Wake up, damnit! KENSEI!"

Unfazed by the violent ending to the match, the old doctor and his assistants moved in, pushing the students aside.

"All right, out of the way! Let me take a look at him."

Mindful of any potential injuries, they removed Kensei's protective gear and the doctor examined him. The students move aside as Master Tsugaru stepped forward, helmet removed and scratching his chin.

"Never thought he would catch me off guard like that. How is he, Doctor Matsumoto?" he asked.

"Well, besides some ugly bruises and a mild concussion, there're no broken bones," the doctor replied, moving the unconscious boy's limp arm in a conciliatory salute. "The youngster should count himself lucky, but let me tell you, he'll have one massive headache when he wakes up. Why, reminds me of that time back in 1843 when I went spelunking through the caves of Saitama..."

/

That evening, as the live-in students were eating dinner in the dining hall, Master Tsugaru, Kamata, and the second man who arrived in the Master's entourage were having their meal in the headmaster's quarters. They had been discussing the business of the dojo during the Master's two-month absence and Kamata was bringing the Master up to date on recent news within the city.

"The police have been more aggressive lately, I see. If they're so bold as to approach you and the students even in my absence, perhaps they have finally gotten formal backing by the government for the _Dai Nippon Butoku Kai_."

The Master remarked sagely and took a sip of sake from his cup.

Kamata agreed. "Yes, they haven't announced it yet, but I'm sure that is the case. We were lucky that Akira's brother, Captain Mishima's unit was the one to respond in the aftermath of the incident with the yakuza. If it had been someone else, we may have had a harder time dealing with their coercing."

The Master scratched the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.

"Speaking of the incident... that boy is quite the enigma. What did you say his name was?"

Kamata hesitated a moment, but replied.

"Himura Kensei."

The old Master's eyes widen slightly, lost in thought as he pondered the name.

"Himura... I see. So he is the one who saved the Tsugaru dojo from the yakuza."

Kamata looks up at him in alarm.

"I didn't say – "

"You conveniently left him out of the story you told me when we arrived this morning. So, I thought I would act the part of the villain and lure out this self-righteous individual who I'd been hearing about from the gossip downtown since I got off the train station. Who would have thought I would get a pint-sized, blue-eyed demon instead?" The old master chuckled and smacked his leg. "That explains a lot about how you dealt with those vicious attack dogs. I suppose it takes a beast to tame a beast!" The man commented cryptically and took another swig of sake straight from the bottle while he laughed heartily at his own joke, remembering times long past, when the streets of Kyoto were covered in blood. Without understanding what was going through the older man's head, Kamata simply stared worriedly at his mentor.

"You noticed too then, Kunio?"

A clear voice spoke up then, directed at the headmaster, and the two Ono-ha Itto swordsmen turn towards the third occupant in the room.

Master Tsugaru Kunio replied, "Of course. I'm not sure how the boy knew, but if he had chosen to follow through with that last attack, it may have aggravated the shingles in my neck, completely incapacitating me. However, that amazing maneuver of his caught me off guard and I ended up striking him a little too harshly, unfortunately."

Kamata massaged his temples in exasperation. "And that's why I tried to avoid telling you about him in the first place. I knew you wouldn't sit still knowing such a skilled, young swordsman was in our midst, even though you had just returned from treating your neck in Aizu. And now, because of your carelessness, that same young man is bedridden with a concussion!"

Master Tsugaru laughed good-naturedly and waved him off.

"Gah, you're such a worry-wart, Tsuyoshi-kun. I'm too old to be worried about what happens to this worn-out body of mine. And the boy is young, he'll recover in no time – right, Sokaku?"

The third man, Sokaku, smiled reassuringly and nodded in agreement.

"I am sure he will. And if it will put your mind at ease, Kamata-san, I, Takeda Sokaku of the Aizu clan, will take full responsibility for Himura-kun's health, as well as this insufferable oaf here."

The Master oaf laughed amiably at his friend's jesting.

Kamata Tsuyoshi could only shake his head worriedly for the hectic days to come hereafter.

/

Kensei woke up in the middle of the night with his head pounding like a drum, and feeling like he had been trampled over by a horse.

Images from the events of the past few days seemed to mix together and float around through his memories and imagination – Camelia printed tattoos, a golden dragon, moldy sparring equipment, a busy train station full of gaijin in their western-styled clothing, giant dogs running through green, tibetan fields, and washing clothes in the backyard with a red-haired man, smiling at him with soft, violet eyes –

Kensei abruptly stopped the reel of thoughts running through his head and opened his eyes.

He was greeted by the overbearing darkness of midnight, with the diffuse glow from the moon permeating through the paper sliding doors. His throbbing head and aching limbs forgotten, he was feeling slightly melancholic at the memory that had just resurfaced, unbidden in his mind, and he blamed his exhaustion for its sudden appearance. Thinking he would have to spend the rest of the night ruminating over memories of his past until morning, Kensei sighed forlornly to himself and closed his eyes once more against the pain.

A loud snore suddenly tremored through the room and Kensei's eyes snapped open again.

He shifted his head around to regard his room more closely. In the dim light, he could make out the forms of Isamu, Isao, and Akira, lying in their own futons around him. Isamu gave another quavering snort, clinging onto Isao, who seemed to have tried pushing the other boy away by sticking his foot into the other's mouth, and he noticed the pieces of cotton stuffed into Akira's ears.

Settling into his futon once more, Kensei smiled, reassured knowing the wait for morning to come won't be as long as he thought.


End file.
